“Like I said. I’m not hiring you to fuck me, but just in case it happens, that’s the rate,” I say in a softer voice.
He swaggers slowly to me, his eyes dipping me in heat.
I take a step back and hit the mirror.
His hands move to either side of me, his lips coming dangerously close to mine.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” he asks, towering over me.
“Yes,” I murmur.
Slowly, he runs his eyes over me, inspecting my body.
“Mmm... Sincerity. That’s a flavor I like in a woman. So what are you hiring me for…? If not to fuck you?”
My gaze drops to his lips as they curl into a lopsided smile.
Flushed, I flick my gaze up and meet his eyes. I feel them all the way down, inside my core.
“Pretend you’re someone who cares for me.”
“For other people’s eyes.”
“Yes.”
“Aren’t you afraid to hire a stranger?”
“No.”
“Why not hire the men you’ve already fucked?”
“That’s not your business,” I toss at him brashly.
His eyebrows shoot up, his eyes flooded with a playful grin.
“Oh... Okay, then. I’ll think about it.”
He pulls away and saunters toward the door. My stomach shrinks.
“I need an answer,” I bark.
He stops and turns to me.
“Now,” I press.
“What’s the rush, baby?”
“The event is next week. ”
He ponders for a moment, his hesitation driving me crazy. And I think he knows. I also think he’s testing me.
“If I say yes, what do you need from me?”
“Your name, clothing size, a clean bill of health, and your sexual preferences.”
His eyes hold mine as I recite my list. Cold. Unemotional. He watches me, his expression guarded, impossible to figure out.
“What’s your name?” I ask softly.